"Ugh," Altair said, suddenly feeling weak, and growing increasingly weaker. He leaned forward placing both feet on the ground to steady himself. "Ari," he managed. His head swooned, and he clutched the crate beneath him to keep from toppling onto the metal ground. He took the proffered vial and fumbled with the cork, barely able to remove it with his rapidly weakening limbs before he poured its contents down his throat.
Instantly, he felt better. His strength was still low, but he wasn't continuously weakening anymore. Otherwise, he could feel the effects of Haste and the protections of Protect and Shell.
"Did... did you Sap me?" he asked in disbelief. Surely that wasn't supposed to happen.